Obliviate
by SiriuslyPeeved
Summary: Adrian Crowley meets his childhood friend, Hermione Granger, and recalls the strange events that occurred before she left for secondary school. One-shot, epilogue-compliant.


**Disclaimer:** While I enjoy playing in JK Rowling's backyard, her characters and trademarks do not belong to me.**  
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**April, 2006**

"Mum said she saw that Granger girl in the market the other day."

"Get out!" Adrian chuckled and tossed a handful of soggy crumbs over the sign instructing him not to feed the wildlife. Two grubby-feathered swans fell to snapping at each other's necks, hissing and squabbling in the cold water under the bridge. "Nasty creatures, really."

His sister Olivia grinned at him, her piercings glittering in the weak sunshine. "Then why are you feeding them?"

"It was your idea." Adrian dropped the last half-bagel in the water, shaking bits of cream cheese from his fingers and ignoring the full-on swan riot in the murky pond below. "Blimey... Hermione Granger."

Scattered images skimmed across his mind, like crumbs on the water. A buck-toothed girl in a plaid kilt, sweater, and tie was badgering him about joining the school safety patrol. Then, he was sitting behind her in science class, doodling in the margins of his notebook and idly ticking off the number of times her skinny hand shot upward before the teacher finished asking the question. Even further back stood a tiny girl in pigtails and a red jumper, detailing the scientific proof that there was no Father Christmas.

"Guess what? She's preggers!" Olivia was delighted. "She's due any second now! Mum said she looked like she was ready to explode."

Adrian experienced a momentary shock, considering Hermione Granger in the sort of situation that brought on a pregnancy. He lit a cigarette and shook the extinguished match onto the pavement. "Wow. That's great."

"And you look like you've been struck by a bus. Come on, I'm thirsty. Let's get another lemon squash." Brother and sister made their way back across the bridge and toward the coffee cart by the playground. All over the trim lawns and blooming gardens of Hyde Park, people were enjoying one of the first fair Sundays of spring.

Across the lawn, a toddler tumbled off a slide and wailed angrily for his mother. A red-headed woman picked up the child and dusted him off where he had fallen, holding him consolingly against her shoulder. Immediately, a thin, newborn voice started howling from the pram parked nearby. Slowly, another woman heaved herself to her feet, using a park bench to lever herself upright. Staggering a bit, she moved to the pram and started to jiggle the handle back and forth. This only made the baby inside cry even harder. The redhead called to the pregnant woman to take the baby out and hold him, but she seemed reluctant.

Olivia grabbed Adrian's arm and sloshed her drink all over his leather jacket. He swore. "Adrian, that's Hermione!" Olivia's silver-ringed finger pointed toward the playground. Hermione was unmistakable, her mad hair blowing in the April wind.

Adrian mopped at his wet, sticky jacket with a paper napkin. "Really, Livvey, let's not bother them. They look busy."

"C'mon, it'll be fun. Hermione!" Olivia yelled before he could stop her.

Hermione shielded her eyes with one hand and waved. "Olivia? Olivia Crowley!" The two women hugged and exclaimed over each other as Adrian hung back, feeling uncomfortable. He couldn't make out what they were saying, both of them were talking so fast. Hermione always talked too fast when she got excited.

"That's my brother, right over there behind the fountain! Adrian!" Olivia shouted.

"Hey. Nice to see you."

"Adrian," said Hermione fondly. She reached up to kiss his cheek, and her giant belly pressed on his as she leaned forward. "It was so nice to see your mum the other day. She said you were working in New York!"

"Securities. Deadly dull, but it keeps me in smokes, for what it's worth."

"I can't believe you haven't quit," Hermione scolded.

"Bloody hard to keep it up, you can't smoke anywhere these days. New York's even worse, if you can believe it. Government's poking into everything." The redhead and Hermione exchanged amused glances. "Introduce your friend?"

"Oh! This is my sister-in-law, Ginny, and her boys, James and Albus." Hermione peered nervously into the pram, where the tufty-haired newborn had finally gone back to sleep. "Ginny, my old neighbors, Adrian and Olivia Crowley."

"Hermione's mum and dad were our dentists growing up." Olivia grinned. "Though who knows what they'd say now, if they saw what he's done to his teeth."

"That's enough," growled Adrian. Ginny chuckled. It seemed Olivia had found a fellow fan of the great sport of brother-baiting. "Albus, now, that's a different name."

"It's an old family name, we're fond of it. Calling him Al, though, the full name's a bit much to hang on a seven-pounder." Ginny stroked the infant's cheek. "So, you've known Hermione how long?"

"Since we were about the size of your one over there." He gestured toward Ginny's ginger-haired son, who was peacefully digging in the sandbox with both hands. "_She_ was a biter."

"I was not!" Hermione objected.

When Mrs. Granger went back to work in the dental office part-time, Mrs. Crowley looked after Hermione in the afternoons. Little Hermione was pushy, but Adrian stood up to her. When the tots started slapping and pulling hair, they were plunked in time-out on opposite ends of the house. Mrs. Crowley slapped Adrian sometimes for being fresh, but Hermione said her parents never did.

"Probably what gives her that lovely attitude in the first place," Adrian's father once complained. Hermione, then a severely earnest six-year-old, had confronted him about his drinking at a family party, urging him to think hard about the choices he made in life.

As a child, Hermione's greatest flaw was that she never once stopped to think about what others would say. If she thought she was right, out it came, in as tactless a fashion as possible. Adrian was fond of his opinionated little friend, but when primary school started, it was a different story. She embarrassed the other kids all the time, and she didn't seem to notice, or care.

By their fourth year in school, Hermione was a near-outcast. She talked too much, she scored too high on exams, and she was hopeless at both cricket and football. Adrian burned with shame for Hermione after a particularly awful games class. He showed up at her back door to give her some football pointers, but Hermione chased him off, slamming the door in his face.

When they were ten, the whispers started. These went far beyond the usual complaints about her loud mouth and unfortunate set of teeth. The girls spread awful rumors of weird things happening when Hermione was around. Falls, spills, embarrassing bodily noises, the usual things that girls would love to blame on somebody else, given the chance.

Adrian watched Hermione move gingerly across the lunchroom, trying not to step on anything. She had twisted her ankle a few weeks before, stepping on a piece of rubbish somebody had kicked into her path. Thinking the ankle might be broken, Hermione's mum took her out of school for an X-ray. Hermione insisted it was an accident.

A crowd of girls from their year cornered Hermione on the playground after lunch. Laura Brown had just gone home sick. "I didn't do anything!" Hermione's voice was a trapped-animal whine. "I told you, Brown's making the whole bloody thing up!"

Heather Wells backed Hermione up against the climbing structure. Taller than most of her assailants, Hermione cowered. Her orange plastic safety-patrol vest glowed hopelessly in the gloom.

"Brown said that the minute she got her hands on you, she was hurling up everything she'd eaten since Easter! What the hell did you _do_ to her, Granger?"

Susan Tracy held Hermione's collar. "Yeah, tell us, so we can do it to you!"

Hermione let out a terrified squeak. To Adrian's horror, she met his eyes. "Adrian! Please!"

Incredulous laughter broke out. "Adrian!" one of the other girls squealed. "Come and save me, lover boy!"

"Adrian!" Hermione pleaded.

Adrian turned his back, his face burning hot with shame and anger. "I am not getting in the middle of a girl fight," he muttered. "It's none of my business."

Hermione took one last look at Adrian. He kept his face turned toward the football game further out on the playground. He heard Hermione streak away toward the school, her clunky brown shoes slapping on the pavement. Her sobs, and the jeering laughter of the other girls, followed him back inside.

After that, he barely spoke to Hermione. She seemed to shrink whenever she looked at him. Adrian was ashamed of himself. The lonely days passed by, with nobody coming into the garden to share an ice pop, nobody to ride bikes with. Adrian decided he couldn't drive himself mad over it. They were all off to secondary school in the fall, and Hermione was going away. Everyone said she'd been accepted to some wonky boarding school in Scotland.

"Bet they've all got spots, and they're as mad as she is," Jessie Lewis said at lunch one day. Tripping Granger in the lunch room had gotten boring. She didn't talk to anybody, not even the teachers. She continually carried old, heavy library books around, moving her lips as she read. Hermione's shame had been replaced by a dreamy sort of wonder, like she'd received a shock or surprise and hadn't quite digested it yet. It was refreshing to hear her get called on the carpet for daydreaming.

Nobody ever found out what had really happened to Laura Brown. Maybe it was a bad prawn after all. Brown swore up and down it was Granger, but gradually, everyone came to think she'd made the whole thing up.

The ginger-haired toddler, Hermione's nephew, started to cry. Adrian's memories let go with a sudden jolt.

Adrian settled down next to James on the edge of the sandbox. "Eh, chap! What's the problem?"

"Play," said James, aggrieved. "Mama play." Ginny, Hermione, and Olivia sat on a bench nearby, giggling and chatting softly as Ginny nursed the baby.

"Your mum's got her hands full with baby brother right now. I can play with you," Adrian offered.

The red-headed boy eyed him suspiciously, then handed him a red plastic spade. "Dig." Adrian dug.

"Hermione, if you're really due in a week, I'm surprised to see you out and about!" said Olivia.

"My midwife said staying active is the best thing. She said walking about would," Hermione visibly flinched, "speed things up in the delivery room. Mind you, I'm not sure I _want _it sped up too much."

"Trust me, you do," said Ginny.

Hermione shivered. "Anyway, Ginny and Harry live right on the other side of the park, so if anything happens, we're close by."

Olivia whistled. "Ooh, nice neighborhood." Ginny only smiled. "What have you been up to, Hermione? Besides, well, all this?" Olivia's eyes flicked down at Hermione's midsection, which strained the fabric of a pale pink maternity blouse. "Mum says you're a top hand in some odd little government department or other."

Hermione's laugh pealed out, as loud as ever. "You could say that. We're concerned with, you might say... the rights of marginalized groups."

"Immigrants?" Adrian conjectured. Ginny coughed loudly.

"Exactly," Hermione grinned. "I love it. It feels so good to stand up for, ah... people who've been treated poorly by society."

"And you can't argue your way out of a wet paper bag, either," Adrian muttered. He settled down beside Hermione on the bench, and she punched him on the upper arm. For a moment, it was almost like they were friends again. "Taking time off for Junior, then?"

"Yes, I'll take a few months, and then I'll be able to work from home for a few more months after that. Ronald's been threatening to get a nanny, but I really think I can manage. Not to mention that Ginny and Ronald's mum had seven children without any help. I'd never live it down."

Hermione's "Ronald" popped, fully formed, into Adrian's mind. He was a tweedy guy in his forties with thinning red hair. It had to be red, if he were Ginny's brother. He'd gained some weight, he wore ugly ties, and he had a pretty, talented young woman on his arm. Adrian felt his stomach squeeze with irritation. "I hope this Ronald character is good to you."

Hermione laughed with surprise. "He's so nervous about the baby. I can't imagine why! He's got nieces and nephews coming out his ears." Hermione waved toward Ginny and the boys.

"I think he'll be all right." Adrian rested his hand on Hermione's shoulder for a few seconds. She leaned toward him. Maybe she had forgotten about the way he treated her in school. Probably not: he'd never known Hermione Granger to forget anything in her life.

"How are things at the firm?" Hermione asked. "Mum said you were moving up."

"Doing all right, thanks. Junior partner since Christmastime."

"I always thought you'd do something worthwhile. You were _nearly_ the smartest boy in our year."

"Nearly," Olivia chuckled. She had wandered over from the sandbox, following little James.

"Oh! I am sorry," Hermione said guiltily. She reached for Adrian's hand in apology. "Just when you think those bad, old, youthful habits overcome."

"Maybe it's seeing an old friend that takes you back." Her hand was so soft and small in his, her plain gold wedding band smooth beneath his thumb. "Listen, Hermione. I'm really sorry we haven't been in touch. I wanted to call you, ever since that year your parents were overseas. It was so strange, not having them next door. I kept thinking about you. I even Googled you once or twice." Ginny looked up quizzically, holding the baby to her shoulder and patting his back. "Anyway, you're damned hard to look up."

"I'm sorry about that, too," said Hermione, with a touch more regret than Adrian would have thought necessary. "Seventh year in school... it would have been hard to get hold of me. So busy with exams, and all." She carefully detached her hand from his.

"That was a bad time, wasn't it?"

"How do you mean?"

"Our last year at school. The crime rate went through the roof, and the weather was terrible. Remember? They kept saying it was the worst weather in British history, and around here, that really means something."

"Foggy all the time," Olivia agreed. "All my girlfriends at school kept getting in rows, and crying about nothing in the toilets. Bit annoying, if you ask me."

Adrian snorted. Olivia was unsinkably cheerful, or maybe just oblivious. "Then, there was that murder in our old neighborhood. The body was just across the street from your parents' house. Not a mark on itust dead. Nobody ever found out anything else about it, it wasn't even in the papers."

Hermione blanched. "What? I never heard about that."

"You didn't? Blimey, your school really was in the middle of nowhere. There were police everywhere, inspectors, the whole street was mobbed for two days. It was right at the beginning of September."

"My parents were in Australia," Hermione explained, a little too quickly. "If they even heard about it, they wouldn't have wanted to bother me at school. It was our NEWT year."

"Your what?"

"I meant, the new school year."

"You definitely said 'newt!'"

Hermione looked flustered. "Slip of the tongue."

A cold feeling stole over Adrian, despite the soft, spring air. "You really didn't know anything about it?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said wildly, looking around for her sister-in-law. "How creepy! On our own street! I can't imagine!"

Something about her story was not adding up. "You knew something bad was going to happen, and you got your parents out of the way first," Adrian said, making an immediate leap of intuition. He'd never had that kind of flash before, and it made him light-headed. "What was it?"

Hermione quickly looked away, and he knew he was right. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you."

"They never solved that murder, not that I know of. If you know anything, you should go to the police."

"That was ten years ago," she said, looking down, both hands on her belly as if to shield the baby. "It's over now. It's safe."

"What's over?" Adrian asked, frustrated.

"Hermione," Ginny called, "We've got to run home. Al needs a nappy. I'm fresh out." The baby was howling.

"Adrian, I'm so sorry. The baby and all. It was so nice to run into you today," said Hermione. She tried vainly to rise, but she was like a stranded whale.

Adrian hoisted Hermione to her feet. Her hands were a little clammy, and she breathed hard. "Easy! Mum would kill me if I put you into labor!"

Hermione gave a nervous laugh. "That might be a relief at this stage!" She kissed Olivia, and gave Adrian a distracted little hug. "Goodbye," said Hermione. As Adrian turned his head back to call out to her, to ask for her phone number, her small hand slipped into her coat pocket.

Softly, slowly, peace suffused him. It was like the laughing gas in Dr. Granger's office when he was a child, but stronger: a soft, floating sensation, a feeling that no sorrow, no worry could ever touch him. He looked down at his sister Olivia, and her eyes, too, were unfocused, a small smile curving her lips. He thought he heard a whispered word, a strange word, "_Obliviate._"

Obliviate. That wasn't even a word, was it? It wasn't worth worrying about. It was a lovely spring day. White swans floated on the pond in the late afternoon sunshine.

"I'm thirsty," said Olivia, "Let's go get a lemon squash."


End file.
